After hearing my story about running into my high school girlfriend in Wyoming, a friend relayed the following:
A friend of mine had a business trip to New York. He was seated next to a middle-aged woman on the way there, and they talked a bit to pass the time. On the return trip a couple days later, he happened to be seated next to the same woman.
Reveling in the coincidence, the woman inevitably took on the role any meddling mother with a single daughter would inhabit when crossing paths with a guy who is by all appearances successful and witty: matchmaker.
You need to meet my daughter, she’s this, she’s that, blah blah blah.
The guy figures “what the hell” so he agrees and sets up a date to have a drink at the American Restaurant at Crown Center.
A couple nights later, it’s time to meet. He gets to the restaurant, walks to the bar…and that’s when his internal “oh shit” alarm starts going off.
The woman’s daughter was the same girl he had a one-night stand with a few weeks earlier.
After an awkward conversation and a cocktail that was certainly consumed more quickly than normal, they went their separate ways, betrayed by the smallness of this world of ours.